


patience, tolerance and faith

by rivkael



Series: the days after [4]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Empathy, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Protectiveness, The Stormrage twins content we need, azerite, illidan's imprisonment had consequences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 07:16:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivkael/pseuds/rivkael
Summary: It's not going well.(Set during the Silithus questline.)





	patience, tolerance and faith

How could he possibly have thought that this expedition was going well? He was such an idiot.

 

Malfurion knelt beside Illidan gently, touching his shoulder. “Brother?”

 

Illidan rumbled low in his chest, a wing raising to push at his brother, silently asking him to leave him alone.

 

They had been in Silithus for a week, and today a druid had brought back a strange crystallised substance that the goblins mining it had named ‘Azerite’. Illidan had touched it for a few moments, then immediately fled into a nearby cave, where they were now.

 

“Illidan, I cannot in good conscience leave you alone like this,” he explained, ducking under the wing and crawling to press against the demon hunter’s side, slinging his arm around his waist. “Can you tell me what exactly happened? As you experienced it? What did the Azerite do to you?”

 

His brother let out a long huff, not relaxing into Malfurion’s hold but not moving away either. “Things of power like to show it.” 

 

“What do you mean?” Malfurion tilted his head better to look over his brother’s face, which carried far more lines from years in the dark than his did. He was getting better at reading it. “Illidan, you seemed scared of yourself.” 

 

Illidan bared his needle-like teeth snappishly. “Every demon hunter is scared of themself.”

 

Malfurion bared his teeth right back, a low growl rumbling from his throat. “Illidan,” he said, irritated. “I do not have your memories of your lifetime. I cannot always derive meaning from references to things you have lived. Please tell me what you experienced?”

 

Illidan seemed ready to snarl back, bristling at every inch, but after a few moments, he turned away, and the tension seemed to dissolve from his shoulders. Malfurion hummed encouragingly, rubbing small circles on his back.

 

“It… made me feel- ...powerful,” He said haltingly after a moment. “I  _ wanted  _ more…” he trailed off, resting his head upon his knees.

 

It clicked. He leaned against Illidan’s shoulder. “You scared yourself with your lust for power,” he stated softly. “Am I right?”

 

Illidan nodded, making a small discontented sound and bringing up one hand to gently rub at his forehead. “That isn’t… it is not how I am anymore,” he said in a rush. “I don’t  _ want _ to be like that anymore!” 

 

Bringing up his free hand to touch Illidan’s forehead, Malfurion gently channeled a small amount of healing energy, washing away the headache his brother had caused himself. “I know, I know,” he soothed. “And… though we act as though our past together was nothing, it still happened, Illidan. This is the same. I wish it were not so, but our pasts continue to act against our futures.” 

 

Illidan let out a long huff, leaning in to the soft touch. Unconsciously wanting more kindness and instinctively reaching for it.

 

Malfurion considered this, before asking something that had been nagging at his mind for a while. “Illidan… you do not have to answer this, but, how long did it take you, after you were released from your prison, to create the first demon hunter?”

 

His brother snorted in confusion. “I created the first demon hunters perhaps six years before my death, around eighteen years after my release.”

 

“So long…” Malfurion’s arm around Illidan tightened somewhat. “And… for how long would you say you were without a kind touch?”

 

Illidan turned to look at him somewhat. “Over ten thousand years, brother.” He ducked his head, and Malfurion reached up to gently rest a hand on the back of his neck. 

 

_ Thoughtless. _

 

“I will never stop saying sorry, never stop needing to, do you understand?”

 

Illidan turned his body some more, twisting so he could rest his face against Malfurion’s beard, horns on his shoulder. Their arms went around each other, gripping tightly. Illidan’s answer went unspoken but it echoed clearly between them.  _ And I have never, will never stop needing you. _

 

They stayed still for a time, Illidan’s desperation clear in the tightening of his fingers whenever Malfurion shifted even slightly. “Hush, my brother, I’m here now,” he murmured into the black hair, missing (for a moment) the midnight blue Illidan had previously sported.

 

Belath was one of the few standing guard beside the crevice the pair were sitting in, and he poked his head in for a moment.

 

“Lord Illidan,” he said respectfully, ignoring the position his master was in. “You’re projecting. You’re going to end up calling half the force over.”

 

Illidan let out another huff. His voice was muffled when he replied. “Thank you for telling me, Belath.” He tensed for a moment, and then Malfurion felt something familiar latch onto the edge of  mind.

 

Illidan, instead of projecting his emotions, was  _ connecting _ to Malfurion, letting their emotions flow freely. Malfurion instantly allowed it, reaching out to stroke one hand through his brother’s hair while the other kept at his back. “Shhh, shhh, I’m right here,” he said softly, letting the strong and gentle love he felt for his brother spread through the new yet familiar bond, reaching out to soothe the fear that was dominating Illidan.

 

(Belath slipped back out of the cave.)

 

He was not shaking, not quite. “Illidan, am I right in thinking you cannot weep?” His own tears were slow but persistent, as much as his body could afford in the heat. One of his fingers caught on the blindfold for a moment, and Illidan tensed. “May I look at your eyes, brother?”

 

Illidan let out a low rumbling sound. “Not- ...not now.”

 

His fingers gently eased the tangles from dark hair. “Alright,” he said easily. “When you are ready.”

 

His brother suddenly sat up and shuffled around, bullying Malfurion’s legs down so that he could crawl to sit between them, one ear against Malfurion’s chest, knees to his own.

 

Contentedness slowly spread between the brothers, Illidan’s breathing steady as he began to slip into a doze. Malfurion looked down at his tired,  _ old _ little brother and sighed, cradling him close.

 

“What did I do to deserve the amount of love and trust you give me?” he wondered aloud, closing his eyes.


End file.
